


Falling

by canttaketheskyfromme



Series: What's in a Word? [5]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Beifongs with feelings, Electrical wounds, F/M, Feelings, Lightly scented bars of soap, RCPD, Sex, Some hypothesizing on temperature, Wu's patented fish-eat-your-dead-skin-exfoliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canttaketheskyfromme/pseuds/canttaketheskyfromme
Summary: Usually, Mako is able to enjoy the Force's mandatory training nights for officers, but as autumn draws to a close and Lin continues to ignore him, he finds himself more distracted than usual.





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> The fifth installment of the What's in a Word? universe.

There were many things Mako loved about his time on the Force. The sleek motorcycle he got to ride. The camaraderie among the officers. The almost intoxicating feeling he was filled with daily that finally-  _finally_ \- he was doing something right with his life. Making a real difference.

That idea- the one that his values were actually aligned with something greater than him, or his brother, was one Mako really hadn't gotten to experience much of. He had long since become accustomed with working towards the simple goal of survival, whether he was scamming or stealing or performing work with the Triads for Bolin's sake. He'd always been able to find the drive within himself- it was something Mako prided himself in- to perform each duty to completion. To stand on the street begging just an hour longer, to operate under fear of being caught by the Force for the additional yuans. Even while Mako was pro-bending, it had all been about the money; pursuing a win so they could remain in the little apartment above the gymnasium and stay warm in the otherwise bitter cold of Republic City's winter months.

Mako drew a hand across his brow, wiping at the beads of moisture that had gathered on his forehead, flicking out a tongue and tasting how his sweaty upper lip now tasted of salt. With how much he'd put himself through, the challenges that Mako sometimes felt the spirits enjoyed concocting just to torment him, it only stood to reason that he should be able to overcome the Force's mandatory training nights for officers, too. As much as they made him want to drop onto the gymnasium floor from exhaustion.

Mako supposed it wasn't all bad, really. With new fighting styles being discovered on the Republic City streets, he was glad for the opportunity to keep up with his forms, even the non-bending styles they had to learn every so often. And the way everyone gathered into the Force gymnasium, divided into pairs to learn from their rugged, rough-around-the-edges sensei every few weeks was enjoyable, too. He drew his hands into fists and punched hard toward his opponent; the tight chi-blocking cuffs on his wrists pinched particularly hard as they suppressed the fire he very much wanted to throw. The girl dodged- she always did- using the momentum to dash forward towards him and landed a precise jabbing elbow to his stomach.

Damn. It had been months and still Mako hadn't been able to overcome his time with Wu, the unforgivingly pampered lifestyle, even second-hand, that had left him slow and softer than he would've liked around the middle. Mako had lost his dexterity, the defined shape of his pro-bending muscles, even the Firebending-induced callouses from his fingers and palms of his hands because of the boy. Literally. They'd been forcibly exfoliated away. Mako grimaced from his spot, hunched over, holding out an index finger to the girl who was approaching him.

"One second, Ming," he gasped as she took another step forward. "Spirits' sake, we've been at this all day."

"You don't see me complaining," she tossed back, sending a wink in his direction that made Mako's fingertips warm despite the cuffs. Ming was always eager to play the part of his opponent, playing off the competitive spirit she'd been keen to foster between them since Mako had been grandfathered to her rank after his time away. She'd seemed glad to toss him around that day, sending friendly jibes and hitting her hip against his during their break for lunch and although she was quite cute and the competitive flirting endearing, it was getting old. Especially now that he'd been dropped multiple times by her. Especially with the woman who'd been hovering just across the room, evaluating her officers' progress in silence for an hour or so now.

Mako caught Lin's eye again, keeping his gaze on her just long enough to catch the hitching of a brow- indignant, sarcastic, patronizing, he had no way of knowing from the distance. Not that he could read Lin's emotions too well in any proximity, either. Hell, he'd just been a foot away from her that last week in the Force Satomobile, and even then, he hadn't been able to foresee her pressing him against the soft leather seat and fucking him until he was a mess of sweat and sticky fingers and the deep, stunned satisfaction in the pit of his stomach that was feeling her climax around him.

A hand to Mako's sternum caught him off guard and he stepped back before Ming was able to push him down again. "You could afford to pay a little more attention with how badly I'm kicking your ass, Mako."

And Mako wanted to ask if she was so competitive she couldn't stand for his attention to be directed away from her for even the slightest moment, but he bit his lip, quelling the surge of frustration and diverting his attention back towards her slender, classically Metalbender from once more and raising his hands in the preparatory stance in front of him.

She grinned at the attention and flicked her braid behind her shoulders, adjusting the Force's sleeveless white training top so that the hem slipped a little lower down her chest, and Mako resisted the urge to look. It would only egg her on. The trainees, detectives and officers from both Civil and Criminal divisions alike, had begun the training well enough, but had since unsurprisingly devolved into a mess of dirty tricks and manipulations. There was tension between pairs, either in competition for a promotion or just sexual, and even Lin encouraged the working out of personal issues on the mats; she said it made for a more collaborative and less terse environment on the streets. From what Mako saw, she was right. She usually was.

So instead he angled a smirk Ming's way, lifting a brow. "Even if I am getting distracted, Ming, try not to take it too seriously. I'm not an accurate portrayal of a criminal. It's not like a perp would become bored halfway through a fight or arrest, right?"

Her cheeks pinked; Mako dodged a sloppy kick. She was more charming- and far easier to deal with- when she became flustered. "I thought I told you before- that asshole's blood tested positive for at least three different types of narcotics! It would have been almost impossible  _not_  to fall asleep-"

"Sure." He just grinned wider, fueled by her indignance, trying to ignore the prickling, tiny hairs on the back of his neck that meant that Lin's eyes were on him again. "But just by being there, you made loss of consciousness a guarantee-"

She misstepped; Mako saw his opportunity, planting a foot just beyond her left and kicking back, swiping it out from underneath her. She crashed to the mat, throwing out a hand and vindictively dragging him down with her by the fabric of his pants.

Mako fell less than gracefully onto his left wrist, resigned to yet another visit with the floor. The mat was sticky with sweat, and he grimaced at the moist feeling on his skin, the uncomfortable way it reminded him of how his own shirt clung to his body. Mako's head spun with the pain to his wrist, the tingling shocks he felt whenever he received a blow to the same limb bearing the likely permanent electrical wound; he felt nauseous. Mako squeezed his eyes shut even as he felt her climb above him, planting her knees on the sensitive spots on the inside of his thighs that guaranteed a criminal would stay down once they'd gotten there.

"Still bored?" Her breath was heavy but victorious in Mako's ear. Far off, beyond the loud beating of his heart, Mako could hear the chattering of students; a mocking wolfbat-whistle from the pairing that had been sparring beside them.

The pressure on his thighs intensified, then suddenly diminished, as Ming scrambled from the mats quickly. Mako opened his eyes, hesitantly; Lin was standing over the two of them, something akin to disapproval in the tense lines of her face. She held out a hand- her right hand, Mako noticed, gratefully. He took it and allowed her to haul him to his feet.

"Our rule is five second holds in spars, Detective," Lin reminded Ming as Mako acclimated to the height, her tone clipped. "Or we risk longer-lasting damage, and then your sparring partner here is no use to me for a week. Even with criminals, a full officer's weight concentrated on the inner muscle of their thigh for too long can cause injury, and we risk a lawsuit. You'd be wise to remember that."

"Yes, Chief." Ming grimaced, all semblance of superiority gone; Mako didn't blame her. A public reprimand from Lin was one of the more embarrassing things that could happen to an officer. He waited until she'd left, untangling her braid and redoing it into a tighter plait, head angled toward the ground.

"Thanks for saving me, Chief."

"Don't be ridiculous." She waved a hand dismissively before crossing it over the other, in front of her chest. "Just looking to keep you from any further injury; you've taken enough time with that arm as is."

"I'm sure Ming'll remember to play fair, next time."

"Mmm." Mako watched her eyes trail over the crowd, before again catching his own. "You'd be wise to take your own advice."

"What do you-"

"That move wasn't regulation, Detective." Her tone was knowing. "Something you picked up from the Triads?"

Mako ignored the heat in his cheeks. So she had been watching him after all. "Actually, I learned it elsewhere- Korra returned from Kyoshi Island the other day. She learned some good moves- some new hand-to-hand style they've developed, inspired by Airbenders, if I'm remembering correctly. We thought it'd help with pro-bending." He'd been hanging around the Sato mansion lately in his time off, needing a reason as of late to get away from the inner city, to spend time with his friends. It had been a welcome respite, the house and grounds surprisingly warm despite the increasing chill in the city air.

Her brows rose as she eyed him; she might have even appeared impressed. "Let's invite the Avatar to lead the next training. Maybe it's a style we could all make use of. Good thinking, Detective."

"Thanks." He aimed a grin at her, but she just dropped her gaze from his.

"Thighs?"

"Oh, they're- they're fine."

"Arm?"

"It'll get there eventually." Mako flexed his fingers and wrist, ignoring the pangs of pain the ruined nerves sent up to his shoulder. He lowered his voice, determined to make use of the first conversation he'd shared with her since their night alone, those weeks back. "And, uh- and you?"

The look she sent his way was a little too knowing. " _Busy_ , Detective." She sidestepped him, heading toward the other officers, before turning back. "Rest up. And if that pain persists, see the physician, will you? I swear, sometimes it's as if the officers forget we have a medic for that exact purpose inside the walls of the damned building."

Mako bit his bottom lip in frustration as he watched her progress through the crowd, stopping to chat with one, or examine the wounded shoulder of another who had been caught in an explosion just a month back, trying to quell the irrational surge of jealousy that had risen in his throat. He followed them from the gymnasium, retrieving a worn, clean towel from the basket that sat just beside the entrance, wiping at his hair. He was a mess; he'd fallen nearly twice as many times as anybody else. His undershirt stuck to his torso, and he likely reeked. He'd need a shower. He ran sticky fingers through his mussed hair, lingering by the lockers while some officers pulled on clothes over their sweaty limbs- Mako grimaced- or made off toward the showers themselves.

As Mako gathered up his things, he kept his gaze averted from the instructor, with whom he was certain Lin was conversing, replaying the night they'd last shared, his moronic confession that he was interested in her- one he hadn't been able to stop berating himself for. Mako wondered if she even remembered it.

She'd returned to ignoring him, of course, and Mako didn't know why he was surprised by it, why he'd even humored the hope that something might change because of a single night, or three, spent alone with the woman. She was distant and cold, busier than ever, and Mako was still apparently too much of a coward to try and initiate anything else with her. He'd become hyper-aware of how his hands still trembled and pulse leapt when she was nearby, and Mako knew she could feel both of those things, too. They seemed separated by far more than just thirty years' age difference, although that was crippling enough.

And yet, there had been something in her eyes, in the way her voice suddenly turned soft and her hands gentle after he'd kissed her goodbye that early morning that had given him hope for something more. And the city was cooling, just that morning the first few fat flakes had fallen from the darkened clouds that covered the sun, the mountains flush with deep red coloring; it was becoming wintertime once again. And Mako hated winter, hated the cold, for reminding him of that one day years ago where everything had changed for him and Bolin. Mako found as the days shortened that he needed an additional source of stability to make it through the anniversary, once again. To hold onto something firm and warm, to toss his mind into fiction or impossibility and distract himself from the real world for a while. So many times during the days, he allowed his mind to stray back to Lin and the happy moments spent with her.

Mako made the short walk towards the showers, turning into the men's room; steam billowed from the small gap beneath a few select occupied stalls and he chose one in the far corner, latching the door and hanging his towel over it, stripping out of his clothes, tossing his duffel containing a clean set on the little bench within the stall's dressing room before yanking aside the curtain that lead to the shower. He twisted the nozzle as far towards warm as it would go; as the anniversary approached, he found his aversion to the cold only intensified. Mako stepped beneath the steaming spray, watching as the water formed little rivulets that traced his body and letting out a breath in relief, reaching for the soap.

A tapping roused him from his thoughts, and Mako glanced at the door, at the little crack beneath it, but couldn't make out much more than a shadow. The tapping sounded again; three precise knocks.

He slid the towel from its hook and cinched it around his waist, confused. As invasive as the officers' rather incestuous, friendly relationship with one another was- as much of a flirt as Ming had been- time in the shower was usually a mercifully private affair.

But he thought, as he cracked the door, he might just be willing to make an exception just the once.

Lin waited outside the stall, expression unreadable but for the determination Mako had seen many time in the hard set of her jaw. His eyes swept the room behind her- it was empty, but for the select occupied stalls.

"If there's an emergency, Chief-" He breathed, feeling an upward tug at the corner of his mouth- "I'll need time to put on my uniform."

Her eyes swept his torso, down to the towel he'd fitted around his waist, and Mako resisted the urge to shift under her gaze.

"Don't be ridiculous, Detective." She stepped closer to him, and he shivered involuntarily. "If there had been an emergency, I certainly wouldn't have even allowed you the time to get a word in edgewise. Much less that whole spirits-forsaken sarcastic sentence."

"I see. Then how can I help you?" He asked, trying his best to feign innocence. He knew why she was there, saw the way she was still evaluating his torso. But spirits, something in Mako wanted to hear her say it- say that she perhaps wanted him as much as he did her. Or, hell, even a fraction thereof would be nice.

But she just reached out a hand, curling her fingers around Mako's waist- he shivered at the coolness of her skin- and pressed a thumb along the muscle of his stomach. "Actually, I was wondering if you wanted some company?"

Mako felt something flutter in his stomach. He leaned toward her, feeling more daring than was likely advisable with such a formidable woman. But knowing that Lin wanted him- the feeling never became less intoxicating. "What, no dinner first this time? Losing your romantic touch, Chief?"

"A stakeout and one of the cheapest dinners in the city?" Her fingers moved lower, touching at the trail of hair leading downward from his navel. "With your history of girlfriends, Detective, I'd hope your standards for romance aren't  _that_  low."

Mako just shrugged, grinning. He'd certainly been on fancier dates- nothing had beaten his very first outing with Asami at Quong's- but Mako had never been one to believe in any correlation between pomp and romance. In fact, he was inclined toward the opposite; perhaps it was just his undeniable fondness of Lin, but their informal, quiet dinner at the noodle shack and how she'd fucked him in the Satomobile that night- maybe even the silent evening they'd shared on stakeout duty earlier- had stood out as being one of the best.

Damn; maybe he really  _did_  need to get out more. He grimaced.

Her brows were raised expectantly, the fingers she was trailing now resting somewhere on his hip dropped back to her side, and Mako wrenched his mind back to reality. But she just shrugged, turning. "If you insist on dinner, though-"

Mako leaned forward, grabbing her hand, keeping the other on his hip lest the towel decide to make a bid for freedom. "Get back here."

He pulled her back- pulled her against him, and had fitted his lips to hers before he'd even retreated inside the stall, fumbling with the lock while her fingers found purchase in his hair. He'd missed how she tasted, slipped his tongue between her lips, shivering at the foreign, surprisingly enjoyable sensation of her cool plate against his naked torso.

"I figured you weren't being serious," she breathed against his lips, and Mako moved his fingers down her back, feeling at the ridges in the plate, glad to still have use of his hands- with Lin, he figured certain luxuries had to be enjoyed while he had the chance.

"Then why'd you turn away?"

She pulled away and dropped her gaze, keeping it trained somewhere around his collarbone. "To give you an out."

Mako trailed the tips of his fingers down her jawline and lifted her face to his, determined to hold a steady, honest gaze, despite how his heart was leaping in his chest with the next words already forming on his lips. "You'd be crazy to think I don't want anything but this, Lin."

Her face relaxed and she fitted her mouth against his once again, and for a few minutes- or maybe more, he wouldn't have been able to tell anyway- Mako lost himself in the familiar curve of her lips, tracing their outline with his tongue while she hummed, contentedly, against him.

"What brought this on?" He asked finally, as she leaned back, bending the armor from her body and depositing it unceremoniously on the bench beside his duffel where it gleamed oddly against the austere, tight stall.

She pressed against his chest again and worked a thigh between his legs, and he moaned involuntarily.

"You looked good out there today."

"Oh?" He asked, breathless, well aware of how hard he was shaking as her fingers traced the top of the towel, dipping beneath to feel at where the dark trail of hair thickened. "Something in between my frequent visits to the mat served to convince you?"

Something odd- pity, maybe, swam in her eyes as she pulled back, evaluating him again. She lifted a hand, the one that wasn't touching at the base of his cock, and she traced his cheekbone with her index digit. "I was told once that it doesn't matter how much you fall, as long as you get back up an equal number of times."

Mako had opened his mouth to respond- a rebuttal, or maybe even to thank her, to tell her he'd try his best to remember those words the next time he was facing Ming in the Force gymnasium, but before he was able to respond she worked away the towel from around his waist, fingers encircling his cock, and his tongue had found its way back in her mouth as she stroked him, slowly, pressing his back against the cool tile wall.

"Spirits," he moaned against her mouth, pushing into the heat of her hand. "Lin-"

She bit his lip, hard. "Quiet," she whispered, and Mako could almost taste the smirk on her lips as she worked her pants down to the floor, allowing him to pull the shirt from her body and unlatch her bra.

Mako picked her up, holding her tight against him as he walked to shower, moving aside the curtain once again as her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

She jolted against him. "Spirits, that's  _hot_ ," she breathed, putting a hand beneath the spray. "I swear, if you're the reason the Headquarters water bill is so high-"

"Would you like me to turn it down?" Mako asked against her lips, sliding his free hand over the ridges of her collarbone and between her breasts, following the course of the water and reaching between her legs to open her folds.

"I- spirits," She breathed, her head sagging against his chest as he pushed two fingers deep inside her, taking care to warm them. Her moan was loud- louder than his last, and Mako felt a surge of satisfaction, one that twisted his stomach wonderfully and made his cock throb against her. "Yes, I mean no-  _don't_  move your hand, I'll get it-"

To Mako's left, there was the squeaking of the faucet being adjusted. And slowly, the water cooled a little, and if Mako didn't have her wrapped around him, he'd have found it cold. But with her there, warming him, her center and lower belly radiating heat against his stomach, it wasn't so bad.

It wasn't bad at all, with the tightening of her legs and the way she rocked her hips into his hand, encouraging his fingers to penetrate her harder. And, granted, Mako would willingly put himself in far less comfortable situations than this for Lin Beifong.

He added a third finger and pushed them deeper into her, steadying Lin's body against the slick tile to ease the pain that still coursed through his left wrist from holding her weight, and slid his mouth just beneath the bone of her jaw, sucking at the soft skin he found there. Her breathing hitched; he felt the fluttering of her pulse just beneath his lips.

Mako wondered if she could feel his with the same precision through the floor. The thought made him feel both uneased, and warmed at the intimacy of it.

He slid his fingers from inside her and grasped the curve of her ass more firmly, bringing her beneath the stream of water with him, gasping as the droplets wet his hair and trickled down to his lashes.

" _Mako_ ," she breathed, and his kissed faltered on her neck at the foreign sound to her voice, the way her fingers trembled from their hold in his hair. He pulled them away from the spray, pressing her back against the cool tile wall once again. Her cheeks were flushed and- his fingers slid down her stomach again- the slit between her legs particularly moist. He drew a finger through the folds and her hips pushed upward against his hand, gasping. "Mako- are you going to fuck me, or what?"

His eyes shut. He might not be able to tell what she was thinking from sight- but the softness of her voice when she was wrapped around him was more than enough for him to know, to suspect, to hope beyond reason that he had heard something else, some other sort of meaning, in her words.

And for a moment- as much as his body would hate him for it, Mako wanted to choose the  _what_ , wanted to find out how long he could kiss her beneath the spray until it turned frigid, see how many ways he could thread his fingers in her wild, soaked hair, the number of abstracted patterns he could trace against the soft skin of her back and waist with the pads of his fingers. But instead he just nodded, hitching her legs higher around his hips. "Your wish is my command, Chief."

Mako kept his eyes on her face as he guided his cock into her, watched the way she bit hard at her bottom lip, stifling any sound, and he felt another surge of frustration run through his mind; he wanted to hear her, wanted to make the notorious Chief break and moan. Mako had to work to quell the sudden biting urge to break through the barriers she'd erected for herself and make her enjoy it beyond her common sense. He slid out of her, and pushed back in; her fingers tightened in his hair, her breath was hot against his ear.

"Lin," He breathed against her temple, hitching her high against his right arm and twining the fingers on his left through her wild, wet hair, feeling the way it caught between his joints and slid from beneath his trimmed nails.

"Mmm?" She hummed in his ear. Mako caught her eye; her lip had risen in a smirk, and something about that face- he swore it would be his undoing. Her eyes latched onto his and Mako's cock jumped at the contact; he thrust into her hard, knees already shaking at the intensity, at how close she could bring him to release by just one look. Another shudder of pleasure reached his spine and Mako's forehead fell forward against the cool tile wall.

"You're wonderful," he whispered against her ear, biting his own tongue to keep from rambling, from spilling more affectionate drivel while at the far less inhibited state, taking the other compliments and risky words he wanted to tell her and filing them away deep within his mind to examine later. Mako wouldn't put it past Lin to push away from him and leave; already, he could feel the heavy dichotomy in power between them. Lin was the one to set defined boundaries; the one who would initiate any less than formal interaction between the two of them. And Mako was- willing. He was  _always_  willing, would bend over backwards until he broke, to have another chance with her.

Because he felt-  _something_ , for the woman, something beyond the affection or even the crush he'd been dismissing as the same feelings that his coworkers came down with after watching her determination and bending prowess, the way a simple complimentary word from the Chief could change an officer's day- hell, their week, realign them with a just and worthy common goal. Now that Mako knew that he could please her, make her gasp by angling his hips in the right way as he pushed into her, drive her to seek him out for that type of pleasure- he likely would never overcome that high.

He pulled her hips down against his, quickening his pace. In his thoughts, in the habit he had of just losing himself in her, he hadn't realized how quickly he'd approached the edge. "Spirits," he choked into her ear. "Lin-"

She grabbed at his shoulders harder. "Come for me, Mako."

"But-"

" _Please_."

He touched her with messy, desperate hands, feeling at her slick breasts before fisting his fingers in her hair, dragging her face to meet his, looking into her eyes before the rolling pleasure hit him deep in the abdomen. He bit his lip hard to keep from making a sound, pushing far into her as he came.

Mako was sweating again, his knees shaking, and he allowed them to give out in front of her, feeling at her hips and resting his cheek against the soft curve of her stomach beneath her navel, breathing as the world spun around him.

Her hands, soft now, found his jaw. "Good?" She asked, amused.

Mako expelled a long breath. "Spirits, you have no idea."

He turned towards her and kissed at her navel, leaving a path of open-mouthed, sloppy kisses to the dark patch of hair that grew between her own legs, kissing through to the soft folds just below. Her breathing hitched as his tongue licked through them, spreading her with his fingers and finding her clit, probing at it gently, licking deeper into her, tasting the bitter tang of her juices and likely some of his own, too.

"Mmm, you're-" Mako watched her hand curl into a fist beside her hip. "Good-  _great_ \- at that."

Mako just hummed his thanks, pressing heated fingers deep inside of her once again, feeling a trail of his semen travel down the digits to his wrists. Her gasp was loud, easily audible above the water.

Mako massaged the ball of nerves with his tongue, stretching his fingers and curling them inside of her, warming them experimentally, dropping the temperature to a smack to his ear. He smirked, pushing his lips harder against her to another insistent moan. He ignored the whining protest of his muscles, his lips and tongue, working them until her fingers finally curled in the back of his hair and pressed his mouth hard against her clit, her breathing quickening in pace, riding out her own orgasm against his mouth and nose.

Mako stood with uncertainty and eased the water temperature up just a little, stooping to kiss her less than responsive, parted lips before retrieving the bar of soap and washing his fingers and cock, his hair and underarms, the bar leaving lightly scented, foaming suds as it traveled over the planes of his body. He looked up and caught her staring, and she didn't look away.

He offered her the bar. "Wash?"

"Thanks." She took it, stepping beneath the spray while Mako eased away from it. She kept her voice low. "I think I need it now. Is there such a thing as secondhand sweat?"

"You're the one who couldn't wait until after I'd finished washing to join me."

"I figured I might have missed my chance by then." Mako looked away, face hot with embarrassment, and she chuckled. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He carded fingers through his hair, feeling something akin to sheepish. "I suppose I could wait. Next time."

"Don't." She dropped the soap into its rack and plucked his towel from the hook beyond, drying her body and hair quickly. Mako bit his lip against the disappointment, watching as she dressed and bent the armor around her body once more. "The room's empty; it's my chance to slip out."

Mako nodded, eyeing the languid drip from one of her curls onto the gleaming plate, trying to ignore the raw way his belly twisted at the words.

Lin's fingers lingered just above the latch before she turned back, eyeing him. "You alright?"

He nodded, because it was a better and considerably less pathetic response than asking her not to leave just yet.

But still she touched his jaw, pushing her finger against the rough stubble, and Mako couldn't help but to lean into it. "Look- all I meant is that I'll try and give you more warning next time. Okay?"

He smiled at her. "You don't have to. But- do whatever works with you, Chief."

"Alright." Her gaze softened. "Thanks for that, Mako."

"Anytime, Lin," he reminded her, hoping she'd internalize it.

With a small smile, she'd disappeared just as she'd arrived; quickly and silently, leaving him dripping wet and fumbling with his towel.


End file.
